Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Carving out a pine box.

Burning orbs looked quietly over the vehicle, a grease rag in his left hand. Blue fingers, blackened with soot and debris, pressed against the face of the cargo vessel. He caught the reflective expression as he worked a slow shine into the metal with no true end in sight. He was but a single person against a sea of bolted and riveted metal.

"You okay?"

The voice rang out from the ramp as it descended, exhaust and steam pushing into the bay.

"You seem more quiet than usual." The Falleen woman spoke as if she cared. She wore the garb of a Captain though her expression was motherly, almost tender.

"I'm not fond of the First Order." He whispered, standing up straight and stretching his shoulders. A long brown coat hung on his shoulders, the apparel of a common smuggler beneath. He holstered a weapon on his hip though he cared little for it's use. This was what he was told was normal for his occupation.

"Why's that?" A human male blurted out as he rolled out from underneath the vessel. The hoverboard from beneath him was loud and clanked against the duracrete below.

Maalik looked quietly towards the clamps of the ship. The durasteel and the way it gripped the surface, keeping it from taking off despite the engines running hot. It seemed to captivate him, if only for a moment.

"Because they're not fond of me."

"Well, you picked a bad place for that sentiment. Varonat, after all, is home to their fortress!" The male stood up, mocking the size of the place with his hands spread wide. Maalik could smell a hint of something on him. Death sticks. It wasn't long before that one was gone, strutting back up through the ship and into the belly of the cargo hold.

"Don't mind him. I've got a task for you."
"Like on Donadus?"
"No..." She said with smile and chuckle. "I don't need that Maalik. I need this one." She pressed her hands against his shoulders, clapping.
"No fighting?"
"No, not that I know of. This will be simple transit."
"Good. I'm glad." He spoke with the hint of a smile. Clear attempt was put in to mimic the expressions of happiness that he so often saw others wear. But in the end, it felt hollow.

"Perk up...she will be here soon and we can get out of here." With that, the Captain was gone and Maalik was left with the quiet of the engine.


[member="Taheera Sollo"]

Earlier today...


Feth, feth, feth. She hadn't realized transporting some medical supplies and getting some information on transfer essence was going to be so sensitive just because it was on a First Order world. She also hadn't realized her face would be so recognizably tied back to the Alliance and how wanted by the First Order she was. Sure, she was prepared for a certain amount of caution and level of being discreet but this was...


She'd lost them for the last hour. Barely. Tattooed-face scowled within the shadow of her cowl. She checked the chrono on her wrist. She was late. She knew the smugglers she'd hired wouldn't wait forever - no matter how much she was paying them. And if she stayed any longer, she'd be trapped here. There were already an increased number of patrols in the area.

It's why she hadn't been able to move to the landing pads yet and the rendezvous point.

She'd have to risk it. Myrtle-ellipses flickered to the power-setting on her blaster. About a third left for stun-bolts. It'd have to do. Green fingers tugged the hood of her jacket down a little further. Taking a breath, she stepped into the hot, humid air of the jungle sunshine, soft-booted feet padding quietly on the dirt. Head remained ducked low, hands shoved in her jacket pockets.
The display shifted from blue to red and back again. Every moment that passed saw the colors transition to a steady rhythm.

"Noise." Maalik stated quietly as he walked into cockpit. The tapered edges of his coat hovered above the loose metal grates, though his steps were as silent as a shadow. His words flowed like the iterations of twilight, subtle and softly whispered.

"Yeah..." The Captain replied, leaning back in her chair. Dirty fingernails hovered over the scanner as she turned up the volume.

::Suspect has escaped and is evading capture. Suspect is Mirialan with distinct facial tattoos. Code Yellow::
She clicked off the volume and shook her head, laughing. "Good thing I don't have facial tattoos. Wouldn't expect a trooper to tell the difference between a falleen and a mirialan."

"Tattoos or not, they'll still take you in. No doubt in mind, none at all." The male mechanic walked in, strutting with a wrench over his shoulder. "We are passed due on timing anyway. Seems things are getting hot, maybe we should abandon the mission?"

Maalik looked over his shoulder, contemplating the suggestion with a leveled form of indifference.

"Not like we have an abundance of cargo, bursting from the hull. I think we'll stay around..."

"Yeah..." The man started. "But they might be looking for me as well. Might have fallen in with the commandants daughter. Well, it was a repetitive sort of falling."

"When? We haven't even been here for two days!" The captain stood, glaring holes into the man. She wasn't even going to get started on the fact that Commandant wasn't an actual title. The man had slept with the daughter of one of the higher ups here. She just couldn't understand where he had the time for it.

"What can I say, I'm a quick study. It wasn't really all that difficult."

"What do you-"

"I should pull the clamps." Maalik verbally stepped between them, looking towards the patrol scanner. "Circumnavigate the port control engine override. I will detach the footing from the platform." He cared little for these escapades. For the lust of the mechanic or the fact that the captain had feelings for him, clutching her now freshly wounded pride. He looked over to the mechanic, coldly. "Make sure the shielding is energized and prep the canons."

"I said this won't be like Donadus." The Captain retorted.

"We all say a lot of things." He stepped quietly out of the cockpit to head down through the belly of the vessel. A few more steps and he would make his way down the ramp.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

Stacks of crates were convenient and they always seemed to be around spaceports. This jungle planet was no different. She eased behind a row of them, nose picking up on the smell of spices through the metal tops. Herbal spices. Maybe some mint and cilantro. Huh.

Eyes and nose slowly lifted to peek over the top. There. A man in a slightly tattered long coat with bluish skin exiting the ramp. Problem was there was a patrol hanging around just off the nose of the ship.

She needed help.

Hopefully this was the Triumph and Despair. Eyes squinted. Right dock number. Easing back behind the crates, she looked around. There were a few pebbles.

That might do.

Quickly snatching some up, she turned, aimed, and lobbed one to hit the side of the ship, just over blue dude's head. Who knew what her aim was like, though?
Hands of a warrior so quickly transitioned to those of a skilled laborer. How little time it took to grow accustomed to the anatomy of a ship, as it was not unlike the anatomy of warfare. Or of the enemy. To know what made something work was to understand how to deprive it of function. And his target was clear...

Releasing the clamps with a hard tug that mimicked effort, he stood quietly up to the sound of the engines burning. It was then that he felt the smallest hint of something. Or perhaps it was the sound as it smacked against his head. A difficult component of his transition from flesh to armor was the reduction in tactile sensitivity. Though it was closer to the capacity to turn off feeling or, in this case, to simply forget to turn it back on.

Looking down to where the pebble dropped, he looked outwards in that direction. He spotted someone green and evidently hiding. Even behind the narrow of her eyes, he could make out of the offset of the color in contrast to the tone of her skin. He had never seen a Mirialan but based on the conversation with the Captain, he could assume a similarity in appearance. At first, he was confused as to why she was concealing herself. The port wasn't overburdened with any form of security.

But then the molten orbs glanced to his right, to the constant patrol towards the outer wall. They would definitely spot her. He had to think quick.

Calloused hands guided him towards a pile of crates. None of which were part of the cargo to go with the ship. Inside, they were half filled with livestock feed en route to Naboo. Closing the top, he activated the lift and began moving it over towards the Mirialans location. As he approached, he moved the containers in a manner that would be momentarily concealed from patrol. Lifting the lid, he glanced over to the ship as he waited for the woman to catch his drift.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

Whoopsies. Totally nailed him on the head. Head ducked back down as the patrol helmet heads turned her way momentarily. Crouching behind those crates, she heard a steady thrum of a repulsor lift. And a moment, later, myrtle-ellipses drifted up tot he blue man. Warrior? Merc?

She wasn't sure.

Her contact was the pilot and she knew the pilot was a woman. Must be one of the crew. Hopefully. Didn't take her too much longer to catch his drift with the open crate. Peeking over the wide one more time, she quickly climbed in, pushing the hood of her jacket away from her face. She crouched low and whispered up at blue.

"All set."

Nose tickled. Green palm went to cover her nose. Hopefully she wouldn't be in here long because the mirialan was pretty sure this body was allergic to hay.
With her cue, he closed the crate above her.

The noise of rattling repulsor craft echoed through the container, only slightly muffled by the feed beneath her. The sense of inertia would be apparent as momentum moved her from one location to the next. Given the recent view of the ship, the direction would be obvious. But with all good things, it came to an end.

"Stop, what's in the container?"

There was a pause as shuffling of items were heard outside. Sound of plastic against metal as something heavy was placed against the lid. From the otherside of the container, where 'Blue' might have been, a somber return.

"Feed for shipment to Naboo."
"Is that registered for this vehicle."
"Of course."
"Let me check your shipping manifesto."
"Sure, information is held in the captains bay. I can show you."
"Yeah. Lead the way."

The movement proceeded as the repulosors power on. The container kicked as it hit the ramp and the descent upwards might send the contents of the container tumbling. Suddenly the repuslor was bouncing against metal grates instead of duracrete and the echo of the noise gave a much more narrow view of the world around it. As if a hangar suddenly became the small hallway of a transport ship.

"What's going on?" The voice was feminine but strong, steadfast, and without waiver.
"Your servant indicates that your shipping manifesto certifies shipment of these contents to Naboo?"
"Oh, yes, of course."

Two sounds erupted as flashes of light passed through the cracks of the crate. Like soft whispers in the night, followed by a thud. Then another. With that, it was silence and the sound of engines powering on. The seal on the crate released as the panels lifted upwards, allowing the cargo to escape her feed filled container.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]
The box held a thick odor of must and pine. She curled tightly into a semi-ball in the darkness, grip never loosening around her blaster. Teeth remained clenched as did her shoulders. Breath caught in her throat as she heard the trooper's voice.

Chit. Would she be sold out?

Very quietly, she tried to maneuver in a better position so she wouldn't be such a calamari in a barrel. Watery-eyes blinked as her semi-dark was suddenly interrupted. She was on her back, looking up at the plating of the inside of a ship. Breath held in her chest and blaster rose.

Good thing too because a FO helmet head peered down on her. From his body language it was clear he was slightly dazed. She didn't hesitate. Green-finger squeezed down on the stun trigger and a flash of blue zipped out, hitting him square in the chest.

He fell back in a clatter and she sprung up, pieces of hay and feed entangled with her chestnut strands of hair.

In a way, he did fall. And mid gravity, he second guessed opening the crate while holding the helmet of one of the troopers.

The blaster fire smacked against his chest, burning a hole in his shirt the size of a small plate. As the energy dispersed across his blue armored skin, the kinetic impact pushed him back. He flung the helmet to the side as he stepped back before tripping over the unconscious body of one of the troopers. Tumbling to the metal grated floor, his fingers caught himself before prying down into the metal separator. He felt content to think on his actions while the captain was more than happy to level her pistol at the Mirialan.

"No. She's the job." Malik lifted his hand, trying to halt the captain from firing.

"Yeah...and she shot you."

"Yeah. I think I might have asked for that..." He spoke nonchalant on the matter, seemingly not phased by the shot. "Not sure how that helmet ended up in my hand. It was just...sort of...there." He lifted his hand to investigate the callouses on his palms, as if it were the first time he had seen them.

As if on cue, the alarms on the dashed signaled a noisy output in tandem with a red light. And as if on cue, the Captain swallowed any anger she might have had and ran back into the cockpit. The engines quickly powered on.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

Eyes widened as Blue went down and then quickly up. Stunned and slightly horrified expression tracked to the captain. The captain would've gotten a good shot in. Her own blaster remained up even a beat after the captain left. It was still pointing in Blue's general direction. She quickly lowered it.

"Feth," she finally managed, eyeing that hole in his shirt and the visible chest beyond. Blaster was quickly holstered and then she went about the awkward task of stepping free from the feed box. Much easier to get in, as it turned out. A normal person might've thanked the stranger for all he'd done. She wasn't exactly normal and adrenaline was still pumping through her green body at a billion parsecs per minute.

"What were you thinking?!" She finally sputtered, straddling the box with one leg in and one leg out. Seemed her ankle was stuck on some rope. She gave a sharp tug. "I could've killed you."
"No. I don't think so." He admitted without an ounce of uncertainty. Not with a gun like that. He suspected it would have taken far more to do any true damage to the skin, morphed by the shapers of the legion. Though in truth, he had left all of his crews in mystery regarding that particular resilience. Even the Falleen, now sitting at the wheel and powering on the engines, was in the dark on his origins. And with a huff, he slowly stood before pressing a few fingers into the hole on his shirt. "It was a good shot, though."

Leaning down, he pressed one hand into the collar of the guard. And another in the others. With a nearly inaudible sigh, he began dragging them back towards the ramp. The transport vehicle lifted from the ground and tilted upwards. He was content to watch as they began rolling before falling to the landing platform below.

"Better hold on!" The captain screamed back as the ship started taking off in the Hangar. Maalik lifted his hand and shut the ramp as he walked back towards the Mirialan.

The alarms were still sounding, echoing through the whole hangar. Maalik strolled past the woman, struggling to get out from her crate, as burning orbs stared out from the view screen.

"They seem mad."

Below, patrols weren't quite circling the bodies. The shuttle cut hard towards the jungles.

"We'll head towards the edge-fields, try and avoid patrols before we head off planet." The captain uttered and Maalik gave a curious response, unsure of what that actually meant. He didn't make it a habit of frequenting First Order controlled planets.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

With a final yank, she got her foot free and stumbled back. "I might not have had the setting on stun!" She hollered to Blue's back as he walked away. She caught herself on the bulkhead and straightened. Myrtle-ellipses narrowed as she reached forward with the force searching for any lingering pain he may have had from that shot so she could....

She froze, midway to the cockpit, eyes widening. She couldn't sense anything around him. Nothing.

For an empath, this was extremely alarming. What the heck....was he? Finally making it into the cockpit, Taheera slid into one of the passenger seats behind the captain, giving the restraining harness a sharp tug and click to strap herself in. Still, she couldn't stop the calculative, dumbfounded expression from leaving her face as she quietly stared up at Blue before snapping back to their reality.

"You can get us out, right?" Back pressed into the seat, as the pilot suddenly took them vertical. Uggh, she hated flying.
He had thought to reply, something regarding how the settings didn't matter or that she'd likely need a plasma cutter to do any damage. Or perhaps that he felt she relied too heavily on technology, if she sought to defend herself against him with such things. But what came out was just silent breath, eyes looking towards the forests of green as a blue hand clutched the hull railing overhead.

"I am obviously going to try!" The captain shouted back as she cut a hard turn just above the forest line. The scrape of spruce and evergreens could be heard below, feathery caress to the belly of the transport vehicle. "Though if we get out of here without a chase, I'll be surprised."

"It doesn't help that you shot those two guards."

"Well, couldn't let them just wander on to the ship."

"There are more silent means for dealing with them."

Maalik left that judgmental statement hanging in the air as he exited the cockpit, taking on a more authoritative tone than he intended. After all, this wasn't his ship and he wasn't running the crew. Stepping back to where green eyes was strapping herself to the seat, he shifted his curious expression to her. Letting out another breath, he sat down and strapped the belt across his lap. Leaning forward, he looked quietly towards the woman. He hadn't noticed her tattoos before, he wondered if they were obtained in the same fashion his were.

Through torture and the carving of skin.

Molten orbs set against mixture of deep and baby blue, he let them burn a hole through her to mirror the singe across his chest. While the sound of the engine filled the silence, he was contempt to wonder. About her, about where they were going, and about whether they would survive.

"We got company!" Just as the captain spoke, an explosion clapped like thunder in the distance.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

She got lost in the fire and magma of his gaze, her own orbs narrowing along the edges. Pools of green held onto his, refusing to be burned down as she attempted to cheat again and feel something from this strange, enigma of a man. Purple lips thinned. Greens finally snapped away from the depths of his orbs as another explosion lit up the sky just to their starboard side.

Body pitched forward, secured only by the crash webbing.

A ship - no, two ships whizzed by, cracking the air around them. "Those aren't First Order! Other markings. Maybe pirate or bounty hunters."

Feth. Fethfethfethfeth.

It meant the FO got word out about her. She assumed they wanted her alive for questioning. She was more valuable alive to the Order. She certainly didn't want to live to see what they'd do to her, though.

Tattooed brow crinkled in frustration. She was a healer and for once, she wished she had more strength in technology with the force. Or enough skills to shove these enemy ships a little off course with her mind. Maybe...

"Gun turrets? You got any on this thing?"

She wanted to help and needed to do something.
"Vultures, picking the carrion from the bone..." He stated quietly, looking over towards the ships as they passed by. He was, in his own way, as much a pirate or bounty hunter as they were. If not more so, trained in an ancient and efficient method of combat, he felt nothing for the passage of life and death. Perhaps, in his own way, he desired the silence as well. A machine, set to purpose with endless energy, only halted by an opposing force to which he had yet to meet. Listening to her words, returning to lock eyes with her following his statement, he unclipped the safety harness and stood up. "The turrets are down in the bay below..." Blackened finger nails, obviously chewed, pointed towards the steps of ladders. "The engineer has cut the shields on so we should be fine...for now. I will head upstairs."

"NO YOU WILL NOT!" The captain screamed out from the distance, her angry voice echoing through the hull. This felt like a conversation they may have had from time to time.

Maalik looked over to the Mirialan before approaching her. A swift press of his fingers against her chest and the harness was released. "Wait too long and you may miss your chance." His eyes turned towards the emergency exit and the stairs that led up to the hatch. Against the metal rungs, a set of grav boots and a missile launcher.

He stepped into the boots and clicked them on, not turning on the gravity reads just yet. Strapping the launcher on his back, he slowly climbed the ladder before opening the latch and disappearing into the blue sky outside. The latch shut and sealed behind him.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]
Brow furrowed as the...chiss? Blue spoke. Molten orbs dug into her but the healer didn't flinch back. Still, why was he??!


Crash webbing came off. Lips parted and she sputtered, color rising to her green cheeks. But why was she flustered? He'd been all up in her business! Purple lips parted and she finally managed to sputter out a semi-coherent sentence.

"Hey! Unbuckle. I. Can do that myself!"

Head snapped to the pilot as she stood and glared at the receding back of Blue, hands gripping the rings as she asked a rhetorical question on her way down. "Is he always so dramatic and somber?!" Chestnut strands of hair whipped wildly across her brow as her head shook. Quickly descending, she strapped herself into the gunner seat, green-palms gripping the controls. Headset went on.

The guns bucked in her hands as she fired, clipping the wings of an interceptor. Great, more incoming. It spun out of control and landed in a fireball within the jungles below.

"Got one! More incoming. Two going for your position, Blue."

Eyes widened slightly as the silent nickname slipped from her mouth. Ah well. He would just have to deal with it. Deserved it after being all handsy like a girl can't unbuckle herself. A quick puff of hot air left her mouth to blast a strand of hair away from her brow as she continued to simmer. The guns bucked again in her hands as she sent off another volley.
He cut on the boots just in time to hear the Mirialan speak through communications. Blue. He turned a thoughtful gaze towards his pale palms, garments flapping in the wind as the pilot made evasive maneuvers to avoid explosions. Molten orbs cast a glance downward as the forest below was consumed with fire, following that ever indicative whistle of a falling vessel. The shoes, after powering on, made a thunk and he felt the pressure from the force. Diverting his gaze back to the vessels, he pulled the missile launcher from his back and knelt.

::Maalik...just Maalik::

::I kind of like Blue, actually. You're not up on the roof are ya...Blue?::

::Two remaining vessels intend to sandwich us between them, at front starboard and port. Increase elevation and roll ship.::

::Do what?!?::

::Harla...point the turret towards the tree line and fire during the spin. Captain, full!::

The vessel lifted with the force and speed to make the chiss feel nauseous. Just as the roll began, he lifted the missile launcher with all the strength he could muster. Just as the ships were coming into to collide at the spot the transport once occupied, Maalik pulled the trigger to release the guided missile from the canister. It would either work or he would suddenly be in a terribly vulnerable position. He just had to keep the aiming reticule focused on one of the ships.

Hopefully she would take care of the other.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

Huh. Maalik. Never would've guessed...

"Harla?" She quipped back. She wasn't versed enough to recognize the origin of that word. Wait. Did he say harlot?!

Myrtle-ellipses narrowed and she could feel the heat rise again to her green cheeks. At least he nor the captain would see it. Readouts of the guns flashed red; she yanked the controls to point toward the line of trees below. "Just try not to fall off, Maalik," tongue clucked against the roof of her mouth.

Taking a breath, she steadied herself in the force, trusting it, and in a way, surrendering to it. The memory of her first meeting with Gabe flashed in her mind, as if the calming force-imbued wood was with her now. If only sandwiches were around now, too.

Index fingers squeezed on the controls, sending off a volley toward the incoming vessel as the captain put them in for a spin. And for a moment, she went weightless, only the crash webbing keeping her butt barely glued to the seat. There was a thunk on the port side and somehow she knew, they'd been hit but she didn't know if it was glancing or something more serious.

"We need to break atmosphere," she hollered.
The missile found purchase in the side panel of the fighter on the spin. With a swirl of the cannister repulsor, it came to a slow twirl before igniting. Shrapnel and fire were sent into the forest line as the back turret shredded the other vehicle with a constant hum of blaster rounds. Puncture rounds cut through the metal and glass like butter, passing through and cascading into a spray down into the green below. Somehow, they had missed the last vehicle of the current group. And it only occurred to Maalik as the fire sprung out from the snout, slapping the armor of the transport vehicle right at his feet. The impact deactivated his shoes mid twirl, sending him tumbling down the ship, absent the missile launcher.

As he slid down the polished durasteel, he grabbed the first thing he could. The hot barrel of the turret to which Harla was gunning. He didn't feel the warmth just yet but the smell of burning skin would quickly fill his nose. Dangling, he looked over his shoulder at the incoming vessel proceeded to come up on him and hover below. With the way the vehicle was moving, it would have been out of firing arc for the gunner. The back thruster of the freighter was burning and sending ash into the blue sky.

Maalik looked up quietly, his free hand gripping at the belt that sat high beneath his shirt.

::Secondary thruster is on fire. Soft bare patch 700 meters in the direction of sun. Turn in 3...:


He lifted himself up, curling his body towards the glass display that separated him and the Mirialan. Planting his feet against the glass, he braced against it as he turned his attention towards the ship below. As it began to turn, he jumped out and flew towards the fighter. The belt that ripped free from his waist elongated and turned into sharpened spear, which guided him. With a thwack, the item pierced through the cockpit and skewered the pilot. Following that, the ship spun on multiple axis as it ran violently to the forest floor.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

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